


intertwined

by orca_mandaeru



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Bottom Hangyul, Established Relationship, Lingerie, M/M, Mirror Sex, Top Seungyoun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 19:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orca_mandaeru/pseuds/orca_mandaeru
Summary: At first it just doesn't click, that that's Hangyul reflected in the mirror. Because the person standing there looks beautiful, entrancing, the kind of thing people pay to see. The thigh-highs stretch obscenely over the ridges of his thigh muscles, shadows of his abs visible under the sheer material of the top, panties hugging his hips tight.





	intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> seungyul nation rise

Hangyul stands and stares at the outfit laid out on his bed. He's been doing this for an indeterminable amount of time, at least ten minutes. He was thinking at first, but now there's nothing going through his mind, gaze unfocused.

He's alone, thankfully, no one around to watch him or judge him just yet. But there is someone just outside the bedroom door, waiting for him. Oh god, he doesn't know if he can do this. But he wants to. He's so, so curious. Besides, when has he ever backed down from a challenge? He's got this. Yeah.

And then he looks back at the bed, how... out-of-place the dainty fabric pieces look contrasted with the rest of his room. It took at least a few minutes of staring at the outfit to keep the persistent blush off his face. He's not used to feeling so unbelievably awkward, almost shy, especially not about things like this, but even just the mental image of _him_ in that outfit is making him feel hot down to the neck.

He bought it online, so avoided the ultimate shame of walking in and out of an actual store, but it was so much easier to just look at pictures, looking at every set with casual impartiality. It was a totally different thing to have it here, real and tangible and right in front of his eyes.

Hangyul blinks and takes a deep breath, inching closer to the bed and pulling his mind back from wherever it had wandered off to. He really went all out choosing a set. Sure, it could be better to ease into this, but half the fun was in the extravagance and indulgence. That's what he's craving deep down, the ability to put on something pretty and feel it down to his bones, to become something more refined, more elegant, let go of any standards for just a moment.

Without conscious thought, his hand raises and drifts towards the bed, making contact with the little lacy bralette. The fabric is so, so soft between his fingers, already feeling too pretty and delicate to defile. To think he might feel like that soon...

Entranced, he picks up the whole piece. The top is simple, sheer black silk with a lace trim, see-through fabric hanging down in a teasing cover of the tiny delicate panties. Laid out separately below them is a pair of black thigh-high stockings, little flower patterns dotting the surface.

Hangyul doesn't know how a couple of scraps of fabric can be this intimidating. It's hard for his brain to wrap around the fact that he's going to wear this and nothing else. The image just doesn't click, but god, he wants it to. If this doesn't work out, if he ends up looking stupid and clumsy and out-of-place, at least he can say he tried. And there's still the chance that this will be everything he's ever wished for. Okay. He's a big boy, he can do this.

First things first, he sets the lingerie back down on the bed, already missing the texture between his fingers, and yanks off his shirt. Already he feels a little bit more self-conscious than usual, rubbing his hands against his arms as the cold air washes over him. Thankfully there's no mirror, preventing him from staring and overthinking.

Once he shoves his pants and underwear down he feels even more vulnerable, completely exposed to the air and decidedly not sexy at all, more like a cold dead fish or something.

He can admit he's still a little intimidated by the lacy panties right there, even just the words echoing obscene in his head. So instead he goes for the more manageable piece, the thin stockings.

The first leg goes in pretty easily, though the stretchy fabric stubbornly bunches up at the knee. The second leg is much harder. Again, he's glad he's alone as he falls back on the bed and fights with the stockings, trying his best not to tear it.

Once he finally gets the tops fitted snugly against his mid-thigh, he flops down against the bed and just breaths for a moment. He hasn't looked down at himself yet, but he can sure feel it. It's not like anything he's ever experienced before, wrapped around his legs like a second skin. Hangyul shifts his legs together, shivering at the way the silky fabric makes him already feel like something he never has before, soft and pretty.

Sitting up, Hangyul inches his eyes open. Those... do not look like his legs. The familiar lines and dips of muscles are hidden by adorable little lace flowers, doing some sort of magic that makes his legs look slim and pretty. He can't take his eyes off.

There's some sort of disconnect between his brain and body now, the realization that that's himself he's looking at settling in. And that's only the stockings. He rubs his legs together again, a little aborted giggle escaping his lips at the way the black fabric snicks against each other.

Okay, this is fine. Pretty nice, actually. He can handle this. Now for the main part.

The two pieces really feel too tiny in his hands, but he slips the bralette over his head nonetheless, fighting with the straps for a second until he manages to get it settled snugly across his chest. He's expecting it to be uncomfortable, the straps and lace itchy and tight, but instead it just stretches snugly over his chest, nothing filling out the shape but still looking unfairly pretty.

Hangyul closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. He doesn't need to see to feel the way his body is heating from the outside against his will, shifting a tiny bit but unable to escape from the sensation clinging to him.

He's not starting to overthink like he thought he would, not as many stops and doubts in his mind. Instead, he just feels a thick blanket of static content simmering under his skin.

The room seems too silent, nothing but the sound of his slow breathing as his hand unconsciously raises. The first brush of his fingertips against his chest sends a shiver along his spine.

God, of course it would be like this, he doesn't know how it didn't occur to him sooner. His nipples have always been over-sensitive, and the feeling of smooth, textured fabric sliding over them is buzzing through his nerves. He can't help rubbing over them harder through the bralette, catching his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle his small moan.

Okay, he knows he can do this, he can't get distracted. Only one more thing to put on. He regretfully lets go of his hardening nipples, grabbing for the tiny panties and marveling at the way the fabric attached to his top moves.

The experience of sliding them over his legs is totally different from putting on the stockings. Now, he feels elegant and confident, shimmying into them like he's done this a million times before. It sits nice and snugly against his hips but does almost nothing to hold him, mostly soft cock poking obviously out the top.

Maybe it shouldn't have taken so much nerves to do this, but. He's done. It's done, and now that it is, he knows he's ready. Hangyul knows what he likes and is totally comfortable staying in his little lane, so this is a little bit new for him. He's not regretting anything at all, though, because right now, even with the nerves, he feels the best and freer than he has in a long time.

He wants to sink into it, twirl around and feel as soft and pretty as he can, but he can't shake off the stubborn doubt that he's going to walk out that bedroom door and look in the mirror and see himself stupid and awkward, or Seungyoun will take one look and laugh derisively at him. Of course, that last thing would never, ever happen, he knows that, but still.

He shakes his head and slides off the edge of the bed, the cool air rushing over his exposed body. It feels to walk like this, the contrast of the tights and the warm flesh of his thighs. He has much less of a problem with all the skin showing than he had expected, in part because he feels so different. He still feels like himself, but... upgraded, in some way. Like he doesn't have to overthink in this moment, like anything he does will come out suave and sexy.

Hopefully that's how it will actually be. Hangyul walks slowly over to the door, paying attention to the way his body feels physically different all wrapped up like this. One last mental reassurance as his hand turns the door handle, and then he's stepping out into the proverbial unknown.

The nerves are back and hitting him in full as he steps out. Seungyoun is lying flat on his back stretched across the pushed-flat futon, head upside down and eyes closed. Rationally, Hangyul knows that there is literally nothing that will go wrong, that if this doesn't turn out perfect they can just laugh about it and move on like they always have, but it still doesn't stop the momentary itch to turn around and run away.

He swallows. "Hey." Oh, it's like he's forgotten what his voice sounded like. It's so different to the way he feels right now, too deep and rough, but the contrast makes his ears flush red.

Seungyoun's eyes fly open and he nearly slides head-first off the couch, catching himself with the palms of his hands and clambering right-side up. There's silence for a few seconds and Hangyul raises his eyes, mentally preparing for the worst. The expression on Seungyoun's face isn't disapproving, though. Instead he looks like a cartoon character that's just been hit on the head with an anvil, eyes comically round and jaw dropped open.

Hangyul shifts but he can't stop the warmth spreading through his chest, some of his usual confidence trickling back. "So, uh, do you like it?"

Seungyeon's face unfreezes, staring. "Like it? Shit, you look incredible. More than usual, that is."

The compliment rushes through Hangyul's bloodstream as he grins. Seungyoun always thinks he looks sexy even when he really doesn't, but he looks struck by lighting now, and Hangyul really wants to see for himself. They've set up their large bathroom mirror against the wall, right across from the large futon.

Hyper-aware of all his exposed skin and the sheer veil-like fabric hanging down from his chest, he steps forward, the sleek black stockings making him feel taller and automatically move more sensually.

Seungyoun leans forward, eyes roving over and taking in how he looks like a man starved. The second Hangyul walks into reach he can't keep his hands to himself, stroking over the thin fabric hanging over his sides.

He swallows hard and looks up at Hangyul, gaze earnest. "You look so goddamn pretty, Gyul. You need to see yourself."

Trying to prevent the red on his ears from spreading further down, Hangyul smiles slightly and nods, keeping his eyes on the ground as he moves in front of the mirror. Seungyoun moves with him, one warm hand cupped comfortably in the dip of his waist.

Soothed by the touch, Hangyul raises his head and opens his eyes. He blinks. The mirror is small enough that it doesn't snow him from the neck up, only his body. At first it just doesn't click, that that's _him_ reflected in the mirror. Because the person standing there looks beautiful, entrancing, the kind of thing people pay to see. The tights stretch obscenely over the ridges of his thigh muscles, shadows of his abs visible under the sheer material.

Even though he doesn't have the curves the lingerie was meant to enhance, it somehow works perfectly all the same, tiny bumps of his nipples pushing through the fabric of the bralette. "Fuck..." he breathes.

Seungyoun huffs a little laugh, hand tightening on his waist. "Beautiful, right? I feel like I shouldn't want to rip it off, it's so perfect."

The slight contact, the sight of himself in the mirror is sending slick heat throughout Hangyul's body, and he feels like every inch of his skin is tingling with hypersensitivity. Maybe he's going a little bit crazy, really, he feels so different, small and delicate and ready to be ruined. His hand flies down to cover Seungyoun's on his hip, looking behind him and swallowing at the heated expression on his face. "Well, I want you to. Fucking ruin me." He almost burst into hysterical laughter as he speaks, the words in his own voice sounding so foreign, almost cheesy. But he means it.

Usually, sex with Seungyoun is just an extension of their normal relationship, easy and comfortable with room for laughter and mistakes. It's never been like this before, tension hanging thick in the air between them. This quietness is new, but it's just as comfortable as when they speak; they know each other so well by now.

They just stare at each other for a long moment, caught up in the intensity of each other's gazes. Hangyul breaks it first, casting one last look at his own image in the mirror before he turns around and determinedly sitting himself right down on Seungyoun's lap.

His legs aren't spread that far apart but it still feels obscene, the tiny panties straining to hold his half-hard cock as he shifts. Seungyoun's eyes slip downward and he notices, breath catching slightly. His eyes dart back up to Hangyul's face, something intense and hungry there. Hangyul can't help but fall forward, hands on Seungyoun's chest and pressing their lips together.

The kiss is like a drink of water after a drought, desperate and sloppy. There's too much spit as their lips meld, but neither of them care. Seungyoun's hands raise almost shakily to ghost over Hangyul's collarbones first, brushing over the top of where skin meets black lace. Hangyul moans, voice high and surprised when Seungyoun rubs a nail against his nipples.

Even though the material is soft, it feels so much more against him, rough and raw against his nerves. He pushes his chest up into it, breaking the kiss and panting, looking down at the way his pecs look outlined by swishing fabric and flowers. Emboldened by his reaction, Seungyoun pinches his nipples between his fingers, rolling them through the fabric.

It's a kind of rough stinging pleasure that goes straight to Hangyul's dick, too much all at once for how long he's been waiting to be touched that's started ever since he first started changing.

Seungyoun's staring at the way Hangyul's hardening dick is pushing above the little panties, flushed and untouched. He twists his nipples hard, corner of his mouth pulling up as Hangyul's spine bows forward as his cock twitches right under his gaze. Hangyul's hips shift, thighs clenching to hold himself more firmly on Seungyoun's lap.

"God, just fuck me already," he breathes, too desperate to feel embarrassed at how wrecked he sounds already.

Seungyoun nods, still looking a little dazed, and leans in to kiss him quick but deep. "I love you," he murmurs as he pulls back, hands sliding away from Hangyul's body. He misses the contact already,but Seungyoun shoots him a reassuring glance as he fishes around the coffee table on the other side of the couch for the lube stored there. Maybe they fuck on the couch instead of their actual bed too often, but they're both impatient and it's comfortable, okay?

Seungyoun makes a triumphant little sound when he comes up with the bottle of lube. It promptly slides out of his hands, falling onto the ground and rolling under the futon. Seungyoun curses under his breath and shoots Hangyul a rueful smile.

Hangyul shakes his head and grins, leaning back against the couch as Seungyoun gets down to try and find it. He catches sight of himself in the mirror again, stretched out and everything visible, legs seeming so much more beautiful wrapped in the stockings.

Experimentally, he folds them and stretches them out again, staring at the way his movements look different like this. Curious, he shifts and turns around, getting a good look at the way the itty bitty panties stretch over his ass, the obscene strain as it tries to hold his junk.

"Got it!" Seungyoun yells, voice trailing off as he spots Hangyul. Hangyul freezes and his cheeks color against his will, thinking about how he must look, on his knees and staring at his own ass in the mirror. "See how good you look?" Seungyoun murmurs, walking slower up behind him and resting a hand firmly on his back. Hangyul nods slowly. He really does. Instead of making him look ungainly and awkward, the muscles of his back and arms just provide a balanced contrast with the delicate clothes.

Seungyoun uses the hand on his back to push him face-down into the couch, until his chin is buried in the cushion and ass high in the air. Seungyoun's warm palms slide up his calves and thighs, pausing there to feel the muscles there. It's somehow utterly relaxing and exciting at the same time, and Hangyul melts into the couch. It's much easier to not get self-conscious or embarrassed with his face covered, even with how exposed he is.

Seungyoun slips a fingertip under the hem of his tights, pulling it back and releasing to let it snap against skin. Hangyul's muscles twitch and he can practically feel Seungyoun's stupid smile behind him. And then finally Seungyeon's hands are right on his ass, wasting no time in groping hard. Hangyul hums into the couch and pushes back into it, hyper-aware of the sensation of fingers just skirting over pretty lace.

In the front, the line of fabric is starting to feel uncomfortable pressing against his full cock, so he wriggles a hand underneath himself to push it aside. The feeling of his hand brushing against his erection is too tempting to resist, so he gives in and wraps a hand around himself, thumbing the wetness of precum at the tip.

Seungyoun reaches around and gently grabs Hangyul's arm. "Hey. Let me take care of you?" Hangyul swallows. He could certainly say no and continue what he's doing, but the idea of his pleasure completely controlled by Seungyoun sends a deep heat through his system.

"Yeah," he whispers, moving his arm back up to tuck under his head.

"Hm, good boy," Seungyoun teases. Hangyul can tell he's not being totally serious, but it affects him more than it should anyway. Good thing he can just bury his head in his arms to conceal his blush.

Seungyoun pats his shoulder, hands moving back down to toy at the hem of his panties. The anticipation is nice but now Hangyul's getting impatient, pushing himself back in a request for attention. A few seconds later he hears the click of a cap opening.

Seungyoun doesn't bother taking his panties off, only yanking them to the side to expose his hole. Hangyul scrunches his eyes shut and pushes his face farther into the cushions, trying not to squirm away at how vulnerable he feels.

One of Seungyeon's hands come up to his hip to rub soothing little circles there, the other sliding cold and wet fingers over his tight hole. It's been a long time since Hangyul's bottomed, a few months at least, but right now all he wants is to be filled with Seungyeon inside and out, to be taken care of fully in every aspect.

Seungyoun murmurs quiet reassurances as he pushes gently. Hangyul consciously relaxes, trying not to hold his breath as Seungyoun pushes steadily until his finger slides in. Even just that little bit feels like a lot, but Hangyul isn't dissuaded, starting his hips swaying back again. He just wants to be wrecked _now_.

Seungyoun laughs quietly and drags his finger out before pushing back in to the knuckle, letting Hangyul's body adjust to the intrusion. "Just... hurry up, I'll be fine," Hangyul insists, voice muffled by the cushions. Seungyoun tuts disapprovingly but obliges, sliding another slick finger in.

Okay, maybe he wasn't entirely ready, but it's not that bad. His brain is starting to get cloudy anyway, hips twitching forward into the couch and back into the penetration. "God, you're impossibly tight. I should fuck you more often."

Hangyul wholeheartedly agrees. He enjoys topping, but this is already lighting something deeply satisfying inside of him emotionally. It could just be the outfit, who knows. He manages to sit there and take it though the impatience, unable to stifle his moan as Seungyoun's fingertips find his prostate.

Seungyoun's movements pause and Hangyul knows he's in for it. Three fingers inside of him return and rub fully over that spot, and Hangyul grits his teeth and tries not to collapse against the couch. His ignored cock is still held by the lace panties, leaking a little sticky puddle onto his stomach.

Compared to when he was first changing, there's no threat of overthinking now, mind blank except for the processing of all the sensations happening. He can't gather the presence of mind to be embarrassed anymore, and besides, there's nothing to worry about. He's alone but for Seungyoun, someone who he'd trust his entire life to.

"Seungyoun," he whines, pitching his voice up to match how small and needy he feels right now. "Come, _on_, I can take it!"

"Hey, now, no need to rush," Seungyoun says. He's one to talk, this is the longest he's ever drawn out things. Usually they're all over each other the second they get some time off from their busy jobs, fucking quick and frantic on the couch before playing video games for hours and falling asleep on each other.

Hangyul doesn't have the opportunity to mention that, though, because Seunyoun is sliding his fingers out, leaving him feeling uncomfortably uncomfortable and cold for a second with only the quiet sound of drizzling lube.

Hangyul unsticks his cheek from his folded arms, craning his neck to look behind him at what's going on. Seungyoun's taken off his shirt, torso broad and lightly defined. Feeling the gaze on him, Seungyoun looks up and grins, eyes crinkling up at the side in that way that always sends a wash of affection through him.

Hangyul drops his head back onto his arms, spreading his knees wider on the couch and gasping softly as his erection brushes against the firm surface. He really can't resist the temptation, grinding his hips down to get more friction.

There's movement behind him and Hangyul expects Seungyoun to push in and fuck him right here and like this, but instead there's a gentle grip on his shoulder tugging him up. It actually takes him a second to process what's going on before he blinks and pushes himself up, wincing at the way his joints crack after being in the same position for so long. He turns around and cocks his head questioningly at Seungyoun, who's staring a bit too long at Hangyul's flushed face and bitten lips before he speaks.

"Come over here. I want you to see yourself while I fuck you." Oh god, what an idea. Hangyul thinks it might be too much for his poor overworked brain right now, but there's been nothing to complain about so far. He nods in silent agreement, sitting there waiting to be ordered into position.

Seungyoun smiles and sweeps his gaze down the length of his body, casting a look behind him to estimate the position of the mirror in relation to the couch. His hands are soft but firm at the same time, somehow, as he pushes Hangyul to kneel at the edge of the couch, facing the mirror.

Humming in satisfaction, Seungyoun plasters his body to Hangyul's back, wrapping one arm around his chest to hold him tight. He feels small, like something precious to be protected and taken care of in Seungyoun's arms in a way he never gets to feel in regular life. He relaxes into the hold, pliant and trusting.

Through his half-lidded eyes he can see the mirror, zeroing in on the pornographic sight of his flushed cock trapped against his belly, leaking enough to stain the delicate panties. One of Seungyoun's hands drifts down to palm over him and Hangyul groans and jerks into it.

Seungyoun doesn't tease him this time, stroking him slow and steady with one hand while he fits the tip of his cock to Hangyul's hole with the other. The dual stimulation makes him want to squirm but he can't held too securely. All he can do is glue his eyes to the way his body looks in the mirror.

And then he can't focus on anything at all at Seungyoun starts really pushing into him. He's not huge in size, just slightly above average, but Hangyul's so tight just the head feels like too much. Seungyoun goes achingly slow and careful, the hand on Hangyul's chest petting lightly over his skin. His other hand is still around Hangyul's cock, too slow to get him off but enough to take his mind off the sting.

It takes a second before the initial sting fades, but when it does he pushes his hips back slightly, head falling back on Seungyoun's shoulder. He's not used to it but it's so, so nice to give himself over like this, not worry about his image or anything like that.

Seungyoun moves with him, sliding in just a little bit more. Fuck, it's so /much./ He had almost forgotten how nice it was to feel full and stretched out, a deep, indescribable pleasure.

He tips his head back down, staring at himself in the mirror through eyes blurry with unshed tears. His legs are wrapped around Seungyoun's behind him, his cock just visible disappearing into Hangyul's body. It's good already, but he needs _more_.

Shifting his legs a little bit, Hangyul gets a good angle and then sits down hard. "Oh, fuck!" Seungyoun groans behind him at the sudden heat surrounding him, but Hangyul can't hear him, head bowed forward and body shaking. It's too much too soon, brain short-circuiting with all the stimulation, and all he can do is whimper quietly under his breath, too far bone to care about how pathetic he sounds.

"You okay?" Seungyoun says, voice breathy and choked.

"Yeah," Hangyul gasps, nearly intelligible but good enough. Seungyoun buries his face in Hangyul's neck, holding him up with one arm and drawing his hips back. Hangyul's mouth drops open in a low moan, the slow drag inside of him setting all of his nerves on fire with pleasure. The ache is already fading away, replaced by nothing but good.

He's really, really not going to last, with the sight of his own body shuddering in the mirror, the deep slide of the cock inside of him, the constant stimulation of the hand on his dick. Like always, Seungyoun can read his body like it's magic, hips picking up speed. He shifts the arm he has around Hangyul's chest, stroking over the material of the lacy bralette, dipping underneath to roll over one of his nipples.

The tears built up in Hangyul's eyes fall with the stimulation on all fronts, dripping down his cheeks as he hiccups on a moan with each thrust that jolts his body. They increase in speed, angle changing slightly and sliding over Hangyul's prostate on every stroke.

"Ahh, fuck!" Hangyul bites, hand scrambling behind him and grabbing onto Seungyoun's shoulder just for something to hold onto as he cums, vision whiting out as his body bows up and shudder, creaming all over his panties and Seungyoun's hand.

His body goes half-limp after, pulling in deep breaths to calm himself down. "You good to keep going?" Seungyoun says into his ear, sounding totally wrecked. Hangyul swallows and nods, head lolling back again and weak with a bone-deep satisfaction.

Seungyoun lets go of his Hangyul's cock and tightens his grip across his chest, maneuvering them back and sideways with some struggling until Hangyul is on his hands and knees on the couch, caged in by Seungyoun's body on top of him.

The moment Seungyoun starts moving again Hangyul can't help his pathetic little whine. The overstimulation is so much, raw and intense, and Seungyoun isn't holding back at all now, chasing his own pleasure fast and hard. Seungyoun moans high into Hangyul's ear and pushes inside him as far as he can go, the unfamiliar feeling of hot, wet cum filling him up.

They just stay like that for a long moment, breathing in each other's space until it feels too filthy. Seungyoun unsticks his chest from Hangyul's back, rolling Hangyul over and hovering over him, grinning freely and much like the cat that got the cream. Hangyul still pretty out of it, brain mushy as he blinks, but he can't stop a smile of his own from spreading over his face. "You feel nice, hm?" he says, leaning down and kissing him softly.

Hangyul hums in affirmation and responds lazily, stretching his arms above his head and breaking the kiss to yawn. Seungyoun laughs and pulls back, sliding off the couch and pattering off to the bathroom. Hangyul relaxes into the cushions and stares up at the ceiling, basking in the content satisfaction. He does feel a little disgusting, though, with the sticky cum drying on his stomach.

Seungyoun is back in a minute after cleaning himself off, swiping a damp washcloth over Hangyul's still-flushed skin. To be honest, they're usually nowhere near this prepared, but this was a special, planned occasion.

Hangyul's mind is starting to come back to him, but he still can't find any embarrassment. He just feels _good_, body still delicately wrapped. Seungyoun steps back and sets the washcloth down, looking at him apprasingly. "The panties are ruined, that's for sure. But everything else still looks good."

Hangyul props himself up on his elbows, looking down at himself and agreeing. "Take them off for me?" God, his voice sounds wrecked.

He raises one leg in the air and tilts his head. Seungyoun laughs and grabs it, touch turning soft as he slowly tugs the stocking off. Hangyul misses the feeling immediately as it's rolled off, leaving his skin cold. It's not as bad as he worried, though. Seungyoun maintains eye contact and a soft smile, pressing a light kiss to Hangyul's knee as he pulls the other one off.

A little bit of persistent awkwardness around his body is starting to return, but it's like a switch has been flipped in him now that he knows just how pretty he can look.

Next Seungyoun grabs the hem of the thin panties, damp and twisted up, and carefully rolls them down the length of his legs and setting them gingerly aside. Hangyul relaxes back, watching attentively. The tension in the air is the complete opposite of the one before, comfortable and settled.

Now there's just the top left. Seungyoun crawls higher, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin as he reaches behind Hangyul's back and delicately undos the clasp. Once he sets that aside as well, he flops down, nuzzling against Hangyul's collarbones.

Hangyul smiles and wraps his arms around his boyfriend, running a hand through his hair. They're still sweaty and gross but it doesn't matter. "This was a success, right?" Seungyoun asks, voice slightly muffled.

Hangyul huffs. "Yeah, I would say so."

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/orca_mandaeru)


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